For the World Had No Pity
by LiveandLearn95
Summary: He stood above the towers of heaven and above the powers of the metaphysical for he was on precipice. A God-King, they called him. For they had seen better days when the world wasn't so desperate...


I had written this poem in March and meant to publish it, but laziness overcame me. This poem is about Madara Uchiha, basically a view on Madara's character and history, and somewhat of a what-if when considering the fact Hashirama wanted to make Madara the First Hokage.

Disclaimer: All characters belong to Masashi Kishimoto.

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For the world had no pity on them,

Those hapless insects he once called comrades.

He stood above the towers of heaven and above the powers of the metaphysical for he was on precipice.

A God-King, they called him.

For they had seen better days when the world wasn't so desperate;

A lone wolf to detach from the clan he once perspired in.

A home he called an abyss for the irredeemable and witless.

That family was hung by their skins so god could see.

They cheered and cried as he situated the crown of sins

And gold and lust and stars upon his head.

An endless darkness would never wait for him as he shall be forbid to come,

The grand power his will, his eyes, his malice holds over the deprived wretches he calls consorts.

Divine prowess be upon him, o deliverer of grievance;

Take thy hands and guide them into the bitter reality that you have foreseen.

An idiotic pipe dream is what he called it,

A battle he fought to the wrathful end where his father, mother, brothers and sisters lied bloodied and dry in the unsympathetic dirt.

Your friend, you called him not only in your heart.

Families rest upon sands that will eventually be washed away by the empathetic sea.

Build up this village! A village to call home and solitude! Where he could store his malicious intent for another day.

For he is not what he seems; I am not what I am.

Now act the part you were fated to play, o prideful clown, o jovial executioner!

The wife he slumbers with is not his to own, it is yours, my good fellow.

He glimpsed into the nightmare that he bore reality.

Passion sweats from the sadistic and mournful hearts these two play with.

Enrichment found with their lustful treachery, or his to say the least.

For his heart had no barrier which could not be poisoned, upon the stony shore where the waters endlessly flowed shall they meet their ungodly fate.

The crown of thorns to be placed on his head, crucified where the former should have been.

This sun, impaled on a spear with wrath dripping from the tip caused storms of anguish to surmise in the beast's belly.

A kingdom built on the bodies of those defying the loving and the prideful;

The winter has passed so this son impaled could rise, but unknowingly fall from his grace.

They tyrant without sleep lies without the sun in his guilt-ridden chambers.

The mesmerized wife he calls whore has left, to her rightful home where her passions and riches can be explored.

This devil resides where a god should stand tall.

You, the friend betrayed and broke, you were his everlasting stitch that connected him to this world.

Unbridled from this course, the lone wolf looks not to the clan fated for failure,

Not to the home seated where he should reign, not the heavens where he knocks the omnipotent off his throne.

It is with his friend.

You are the reason he continues to wither in the sand where the seas almost reach his existence.

Depart from this gold crown of sins and love, God-King.

No, rest where you are, God-King, where you will never reach delightful sleep as he will.

Of whirlpools and fires and wooden fortresses where the dreadful sins lie with each other;

An uchiwa to fan the flames of war and give birth to the god of seas and storms,

To the god of the moon,

And the beautiful goddess of the sun that will lay her love upon his descendant.

Cry havoc and unleash the dogs of war, oh great giant!

Oh, horned ogre that lies with dead sheep and rotted bodies, decaying around you, oh divine horned ogre.

With war fan and scythe, the God-King descends upon the earth with fire and canine's anger.

The hand grounds upon thy lips, for thousands of year he shall wish to comfort you and enjoy nights of heavenly dreams.

The foundation of ice has rooted with undeniable justice and cynicism;

The cold air hisses at your snake-tongue, sinful beast of the damned.

The hag you encounter, the sun-god you praise, the wealthy you cherish, the omnipotent you challenge!

Disguise yourself when meeting him again, for the eyes of the impassioned shall be banished describing his welcoming smile.

Grounded in the ice with tears and malice and jealousy.

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Thank you for reading, see if you can try to decipher specific words/phrases and what they mean or who they address. I would appreciate a review.


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